Trapped in the Closet
by Elinad
Summary: Written for a prompt on the Downton Abbey Kink Meme. Jimmy wants Thomas out of Downton, but not for the reasons that everyone could expect and when snooping in Thomas' room he gets far more than he bargained for... Jimmy is trapped in the closet, but can Thomas get him out of it? Warning: contains voyeurism and masturbation. Rated M for a reason!


The dinner party upstairs had ended over an hour ago. It had been a long day, so Mr Bates and Anna had already returned to their cottage. Alfred, Ivy and Daisy were nattering in the kitchen. Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes were enjoying a gossip in Mrs Hughes' room whilst Mr Carson had taken Mr Barrow to one side to discuss the wine decanting. Which left O'Brien and Jimmy alone at the servants' table.

"You must do it James. Do it and find something incriminating."

"Like what?" huffed Jimmy.

"How should I know?" replied the lady's maid coolly, "I don't know how Mr Barrow's twisted mind works, but I'm sure you'll find something." She placed her teacup down slowly; her stern eyes never leaving Jimmy's blue ones. "Obscene postcards, that sort of thing."

"Hmm." hummed Jimmy, staring at the contents of his teacup.

"That way," O'Brien leaned in closer to the young footman, her voice dropping to a venomous hiss "we'll have something to show Mr Carson and we can finally be rid of him."

"…you're right." Replied Jimmy after a long pause.

"Of course I am." Smiled the older woman, pleased with herself. "Now go. Do it now before he goes up. I imagine Mr Carson will keep him for a while longer yet. I'll vouch for you. If anyone asks where you are, I'll say you've gone up to your room already."

Jimmy sat frozen, conflicted.

"Go. _Now_." Urged O'Brien. "You _do_ want him out of here don't you?"

The young man looked at his hands for a long moment before slowly lifting his teacup to drain the last drops. He then stood, but refused to meet Mrs O'Brien's expectant gaze.

"That's a good lad."

He ran upstairs, trying to not let his mounting panic take hold of him as he arrived at his destination. Panting, his hand trembled as he reached out to turn the doorknob to the Under-butler's room. But he couldn't do it.

Yes, it was true he wanted Thomas out of Downton. But this did seem horribly underhanded and _wrong_.

Wrenching his eyes shut he took a deep breath to steel himself. This had to be done, this madness couldn't continue. Jimmy had to get Thomas kicked out of Downton and out of his life. For ever since the night of the…_incident_, the footman found could not stop thinking of his superior. It seemed to Jimmy that at almost very waking moment the image of the raven-haired man would float in to his mind. The worst was when he lay down to sleep each night. Without distraction his brain would whirr uncontrollably, imagining the infinite possibilities, the endless scenarios: what if Alfred hadn't walked in, if Jimmy had allowed himself to respond to Thomas' kiss, to…

No. _NO_. Jimmy's eyes snapped open. He was not foul. He was not a homosexual. He was _not. _He was simply confused, he'd been lead astray and it was all the fault of that evil, godless sodomite.

Pulling the door open Jimmy stepped in to Mr Barrow's room. Scanning the area he saw nothing untoward. Everything seemed quite tidy, apart from a few books lying around and some clothes that needed to be tidied.

He checked the titles of the books. One was of Keat's poetry, another the works of Oscar Wilde (but of course, thought Jimmy) and the third was a monograph on tobacco ash by a certain Mr Holmes. Nothing too scandalous there then. Jimmy picked up each of the books and checked to make sure nothing was hidden between the pages. There wasn't. He then moved over to the un-tidied garments, searching their pockets. There was nothing there either.

The young man sighed in frustration, what was he even looking for anyway? He got on his knees to look under the bed, nothing there. He then turned to look at the large wardrobe that was opposite the bed. Now that could be a good place to look. Jimmy was just about to open its door when he heard an unmistakeable creak upon the corridor floorboards, one that was far too close to the entrance to Mr Barrow's room for his liking. But how could it be? He'd only been in there a few minutes maximum. Or had his internal conflict before entering lasted longer than he thought?

Leaping as though he'd had a thousand volts sent through his arse, Jimmy saw the doorknob beginning to turn.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, swore the young blond internally as he had no choice but to clamber in to the wardrobe. He couldn't let anyone see him in here of all places. What would they think? Luckily for him, he made it in in the nick of time, as Mr Barrow walked in but a moment later.

Crouching down Jimmy tried to control his breathing. He watched in pure terror through the wardrobe doors, which he thankfully hadn't closed completely, as Thomas sat down on his bed and began to remove his shoes.

Jimmy wanted to scream, this must mean Thomas wouldn't be going downstairs again. Now he'd done it. He'd be trapped in this closet all night. With a racing pulse the footman observed the other man go in to his bathroom (oh the luxuries of being the Under-butler, an en suite!). Maybe I could make a run for it now? Jimmy thought to himself. The other man shouldn't hear him over the sound of the running water. However, the young blond found he couldn't move from his hiding place. It was as if lead weights had been attached to his feet. When at last he'd finally made up his mind to make a break for it, Thomas re-emerged.

However Jimmy only saw the other man for a few moments, as he then moved out of his line of sight. The wardrobe only provided him with a view of the bed opposite and about half of the room. Heart pounding, Jimmy could hear rustling noises that sounded suspiciously like clothing being removed. He couldn't make up his mind if he was happy he was unable to witness that or not. He began to picture the older man naked, his pale skin and…

_No_. He wasn't going to think thoughts like that again. Besides, maybe this could all work out to his advantage. Maybe Thomas would do something that Jimmy could report him on. Maybe he'd pull out some inappropriate reading material that he'd been hiding beneath his pillow, or talk aloud about his evil plans to ravage Jimmy, like the villains in films; they always seemed to be discussing their dastardly plans with themselves. Yes, in fact Jimmy had been planning on staying here and observing him all along, that's right, he wasn't afraid, how could Jimmy Kent be afraid? This was all going according to plan-

Thomas walked back in to Jimmy's field of vision, interrupting his internal monologue. He sat upon the bed dressed in his white undershirt and long pyjama trousers. Jimmy breathed a long sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what he was more pleased about; that Thomas wasn't naked or that he didn't keep his nightclothes in the closet that he was presently lurking in. Although, he was perhaps slightly disappointed about the whole not naked part…

The blond's eyes roved along the figure opposite him, hungrily taking in every detail. The long slim legs stretched across the quilt to the surprisingly delicate ankles dusted with dark hair that led to smooth and graceful looking feet. The broad shoulders and chest beneath the tight white shirt, the well-toned arms and the narrow waist, all wrapped up in a package of gorgeous alabaster skin.

Jimmy snapped out of his reverie when he noticed that the Under-butler's hands had moved to the waistband of his trousers, slowly pulling them down. Jimmy gulped, his fists clenched, watching as Thomas' crotch was revealed and one elegant hand wrapped itself around the pulsing member.

The footman released a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding in as Thomas' cock stood to attention. Goodness, well wasn't the Under-butler _extremely_ well endowed. His own length twitched in response. Desperately Jimmy tried to focus his attention elsewhere. He stared at the long, dexterous fingers that were slowly pumping…no he couldn't look there… He moved his gaze to Thomas' right arm, from the bicep beautifully tensed, to the firm pectoral muscles, then up past the sharp collarbones to finally rest upon Thomas' face.

It was a sumptuous sight. The normally stern demeanour was gone; the piercing blue eyes were cloudy with pleasure and the wine red mouth half open. The Under-butler leaned his head back against the pillows, making his swan like neck appear even longer, and gently closed his eyes.

"Jimmy…" he breathed huskily.

The young footman almost cried out in shock. Did Thomas just say…?

"Oh…Jimmy." The ebony haired man whispered again as his hand began to move faster up and down his considerable length.

The footman feared his poor, untended-to erection would now rip through his trousers. This handsome man was touching himself whilst thinking of him?

A pink flush appeared upon Thomas' normally ivory cheeks, which Jimmy thought enhanced his high cheekbones. He watched in amazement as beads of sweat began to appear upon the Under-butler's forehead, accompanied by a few thick locks of his jet-black hair. How nice it would feel, thought Jimmy, to run his fingers through that soft looking hair, to mess up those normally perfect locks, to pull and drag Thomas' eager mouth towards his awaiting dick…

Oh god damn it, sighed Jimmy as he finally gave in and undid his trousers, releasing his throbbing length from its fabric prison. But he wasn't beaten yet; he still planned on ignoring his-

"Jimmy." the older man moaned, much louder and longer than the previous two times. His hand had begun to move at an incredible pace. Jimmy gazed at that dexterous hand clenched tightly around the massive member; he could see the pearls of pre-cum forming, which he had a strange desire to lap up. Thomas' mouth was wide open and panting, his head leant back even further, his neck muscles tensing as a long blue vein appeared. The footman could see the sweat now practically glistening beneath his collarbones. If only he could reach out and undo the buttons of his nightshirt, exposing that no doubt stunning chest…

"Jimmy!" cried the Under-butler, writhing in pleasure. He was truly coming undone now and Jimmy was to witness it. He could take no more. At last he took his own cock in hand, almost hissing at the relief he felt as his fingers encased his painfully erect length.

"Mmm, Thomas." He gasped quietly to himself in the confines of his hiding place, pumping rapidly to make up for lost time.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy!" Thomas was getting very close now, his arm moving furiously.

"Thomas", moaned Jimmy in response.

Then it happened. With a cry Thomas arched his back and threw his head backwards, shuddering as he released. The sight was too much for Jimmy as he found himself seeing stars as he spurted his own hot white seed.

The Under-butler laid back, eyes closed, his chest heaving softly, his dick limp in his hand. He stayed like this for a good few moments. Jimmy stayed kneeling upon the closet floor, his own cock lying soft in his hand, not daring to move and almost not daring to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity to the young blond, the older man at last rose and made his way to the bathroom. He returned a few moments later, turned off the lights, plunging the footman in to darkness, and climbed in to bed.

If it were possible, Jimmy felt even more on edge. His thighs and knees were burning from kneeling for so long on the hard base of the closet, yet he didn't dare make a sound. With his sight dimmed his ears sharpened and he listened as the other man's breathing slowly became soft and regular. As his eyes gradually got accustomed to the blackness he could at last make out Thomas' face. Jimmy thought that the Under-butler looked so peaceful and strangely innocent, like a statue carved out of marble.

When Jimmy was positive the other man was deeply asleep he wiped his hands upon his trousers, buttoned himself and quietly exited the closet before creeping across the room.

Only at last when he was in his own room did Jimmy finally let out a long, unbroken sigh that sounded more like a groan. He buried his pretty head in his hands, his fingers deeply entwined in his thick blond hair.

Well his daydreams were certainly going to be _a lot _more vivid now…


End file.
